PS: 18 Years
by AJSky7
Summary: Our old gang is now 18, and Arnold moves back to Hillwood for his senior year. Arnold and Helga have a hard time defining their relationship, Gerald and Phoebe have a hard time defining their future, it's time for different people to get their light shown, and families find new ways back to each other.
1. Some Letters

**A/N: Hello again people! This is my first chapter story, and it's almost the complete opposite of my previous oneshot. While this still holds some surprises, it's meant to be more of a fun deposit story of ideas, following Arnold and his friends during their last year of high school, and seeing new friendships, new relationships, new family, and more. Starting here, Arnold and his parents have been away from Hillwood due to some...personal matters they had to attend, and this opener lets us in to his family and letters he's received from his friends, and one friend in particular. IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII don't know what else to say right now, so I shall stop typing now and let you guys get reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I not do Arnold own Hey does Craig Bartlett. (Unscrambling time)**

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><p><em>All these letters.<em>

Stella laughed as she dropped the manila envelope onto Arnold's lap. "We're gonna have to get you your own room with all these letters. Lovin the popularity, honey?"

He chuckled. "_Ha_. They're all from the same people, Mom."

That all-knowing smile crept up to her features as she slowly revealed a smaller pink envelope behind her back. "Yeah, uh huh. Just make sure you save this one for last _as usual_," and with that she exited to care for another patient, leaving the flaxen haired boy to continue rocking back in his mom's office chair staring out the window. As his knuckles pressed against his lip, he eventually moved his eyes to the weight on his lap. _This letter, huh…?_ He grabbed the pink envelope and just cocked his head, biting a lip while staring, letting it shift back and forth between his fingers. This was probably the closest he'd ever get to reading it, admittedly. After all, the last time he had one of those, some words were shared…some _bad_ words…and he wasn't sure how she would reply back.

_Hmm…_ Not willing to risk it, he tucked it underneath the other sack on his lap and instead opened the manila. _"I'm not much of a poet"_ was his mantra, his single excuse whenever he had to produce anything even slightly poetic, but he smiled as he exhaled: it was like the smell of home opening up the envelope, the smell of the city just rushed right pass his nose. He allowed the smile on his face to stay as he dumped the lot of the letters out and began picking out one by one.

_You ever feel like you can't breathe? Stuck between city buildings and you can't leave? Alright man, part 20, think you can guess those lyrics? I'm tellin ya, this CD is gonna blow your oblong mind. The jungle will be jammin with the hot fiya I spits to ya! Lol, but seriously. This one's more up your alley. It has that chill factor you adore oh-so much. We'll listen to all of these one day when you come back, my man, that I promise you._

He laughed. He and Gerald had this game going on for awhile—the past fifty letters, actually. They would start off with a song lyric and the other would have to guess where it came from. Gerald would then compile his favorites from the game and send off a CD of them. Though Arnold was more of a fan of the jazzy side of the hip hop family while Tall Hair Boy would jam out to anything with a beat, he truly enjoyed anything he sent him. As he once said, _we were bros. We do things like that_.

Arnold moved on to the next letter, shaking his head at the ransom-style cut up magazine letters:

_I have your daughter, Governor . She is safe…for now. But if you ever want to hear from her again, bring 200,000 thousand dollars in unmarked bills to the alley between Lexington and Vine October 5th, 12:15 AM. Do it or face the consequences! AHAHAHAAHAAAHAAA!_

That letter needed no explanation.

"Grandma."

The next one was also easily recognizable:

_This better be the first letter you read, Shortman! Waaaitaminuuute, it's not is it? Aw, cheese and crackers! I was gonna surprise ya and say…wait…what was it again? Now I remember something…something kinda important… Oh yeah, I know! NEVER EAT RASPBERRIES, my boy. And I mean never! You don't know how many special days it ruins to have ta dash out the room to unload the garbage truck all over the toilet and…OH! When you look down and realize there's no toilet paper…MAAAAN! You don't know many birthdays that ruined for me. _

_Hold on! That's it, isn't it? HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ARNOLD! Happy 18th year on this godforsaken thing called a planet. Here's to 18 years and hopefully 18 more if you play your cards right, ahhahhahahaaaha! I'll drink to that! Well…I will, not you. You got a few more years down the line before that happens. Well, I gotta cut this one short, Shortman. Your Grandma's tryin to sneak up behind me with a syringe and honestly I'm kinda scared. See ya, boy! _

_Hahahahahaa, oh Grandpa…_ He got a letter like this from him last year, too; knowing him, he's maybe got a hundred of the same written letters in a kitchen drawer somewhere. _Hm, next birthday, though guys, I'll share it with ALL of his family. No worries._

The rest of the letters carried on the same. Sid's sloppy script, Rhonda's favorite purple pen with the weird fuzzy thing on top, Harold's pizza stains on the stationary…all of them wishing the jungle boy a happy birthday. About half an hour passed until he finally finished reading them all. It felt weird putting them back in the envelope, like he was locking them back up in his mind until next year, but before he forgot the pink letter slipped from underneath them and floated to the floor. His incisors met the bottom of his lip again remembering who it was from.

Helga.

"Alright, I can't escape the inevitable, can I?" His mind was probably going to ooze out of his ears when he read it in her screaming voice, but oh well…how stupid would it be to run from a letter? He braced himself and tore the top half of the envelope, unfolding its contents and scanning over her remarkably flawless cursive. No obscenities so far, so good. So he started from the top, curious about what she had to say:

_So it's the eighteenth year, huh? The eighteenth year of your existence, the eighteenth year the almighty man above us has blessed this world, the eighteenth year you carry on, looking forward, blindly giving everyone a smile. The eighteenth year your naïve wonderment has perfected itself. The eighteenth year…that you live. And this is the day that I have marked on my calendar in invisible ink, because no one must now how closely I cherish this day. Not a living soul. _

From that point he hurriedly turned the letter down, eyes shut. Not intentionally…but it was hard hearing those…words so suddenly. So is she not mad after all? Slowly he turned the letter back around and opened his eyes to find out:

_Arnold, do you remember when you gave me your crackers in preschool after Harold ate mine? Do you remember when you complimented my finger painting? When you liked my bow…when you gave me a band-aid after I fell off the monkey bars… _

He couldn't help but to look off to the side, trying to remember the monkey bar incident.

_See? You don't. Don't try to deny it; I can see you scratching your football head in confusion right now. And honestly…that's okay. I wouldn't expect you to, because they were just simple acts of kindness, I know. But…in your world they're simple acts of kindness. In my world they're a nuisance and a means for someone to use you for their own personal gain. So, can I ask you this? What did you get out of doing all of those things for me? Why were you so nice to me? I know I asked you this in a letter before, but…even now, why do you care so much?_

_See…this is the part where I start to let my frustration fester and grow to an ugliness, a pure hatred. While you say, "it's because you're my friend," "it's because it's the right thing to do," "I don't know, I guess," I'm cursing those words, wanting something more. Arnold…I've always wanted something more. It's something that I don't deserve, I know! It's something I'll probably be punished for in the afterlife for even asking, but…what I'm asking is…_

But he couldn't read the rest. _What…?_ The next two lines were blacked out and scribbled all over in black ink. No matter how hard he squinted, no matter how high he raised the letter up to the light, he couldn't see a thing. Instead, a few new lines ended the letter.

…_is to enjoy your birthday, for you to smile and laugh and be with your family, for you to forget everything I got mad at you over before. It's really not important, and I didn't mean anything I said. So that's my present, football head. I'm taking everything back. If you…never return here, at least you know that I lied…and that you are someone who I could never forget, someone I'll always have this love for in my heart. _

_Happy Birthday,_

_Helga_

…

He didn't notice the knocks on the door until he heard the ceremonious singing from his parents as they barged in the office.

"Happy Birthday, dear son! Though your day's just begun, we will cherish each moment 'till forever is done!"

"Though we couldn't get you caaake," sang Miles as he rolled out a small blanket on the office floor, not forgetting to ruffle the top of his boy's head.

"We hope these enchiladas are okaaaay," chimed in Stella as she revealed three plates from underneath their aluminum foil and set them down on the blanket.

"So happy birthday, dear Arnooooold," and they set a small candle in his hand after turning off the light switch. "And now blow the flame away!"

You would probably consider this cheating, but Arnold blew the flame out immediately afterwards, not wishing for anything. Instead he smiled as they flipped the lights back on and made his way to sit on the blanket with them.

"Thanks, guys."

"Don't thank us just yet," Miles rubbed his neck while passing around the plates. "We…seriously couldn't get you a cake."

"And whose fault is that, honey?" his wife smiled as she took her food. Amused, Arnold looked over at him.

"Erm…well, uh…yeah, mine."

"He tripped over a tree root while delivering it here."

"Trees, ya know, they just _don't like me_."

His parents, man. Arnold smirked and took a bite of his enchilada. "Well, _I_ like you."

"Ahaaa, thanks, son."

"So did you like your letters, sweetie?"Stella asked while opening up a bottle of _Yahoo!_ But Arnold wasn't fooled, he could see those eyes just coercing him into the answer she wanted to hear.

He made sure he swallowed slowly, not missing the glance they exchanged in front of him. "They were nice."

"Nice, huh?" she smiled.

"I think that's codeword for he has butterflies in his stomach."

"DAD!" Arnold tilted the brim of his hat down, _as if_ that could hide his face.

But of course Miles just laughed. "Nah, don't worry, son. We're not gonna pester you about it. We just figured it had to be a good one this time since—"

"Since the last letter you got had you pacing around your room burning a hole in the floor," she couldn't help but giggle.

It was times like these where Arnold started to wonder why he longed for embarrassing moments between parents and a child. He reviled the way they always managed to make him blush no matter what they'd say. "It was FINE. She was just…wishing me a happy birthday."

_In such a weird way, at that_. But he had to admit, she was a weird girl. He didn't mean that in the least bit insulting way, but still. The way she wrote things always managed to tear at his gut. It was this silent code they had never to talk about what happened before. They'd never bring up the past, or San Lorenzo, or anything.

_So how'd we get __**here**__?_ he started inner-monologuing. _How did we get to this point where she'd send me letters twice a month and I'd write back, and she'd tell me things I never knew, and I'd laugh, and she'd stop writing for awhile, but I'd still keep up the schedule, and we'd just go back and forth…all the time…_

_And then for some stupid reason, I'd ask her why she could never be this way with me in real life. And she'd ask if she was would that change how I felt about her. And I'd stumble, and honestly say I don't know, and she'd get mad and curse at me and say how she wished she could forget everything because I wasn't worth the trouble, and how she hated me and wished I would stay lost forever. _

_How'd we get to **that **point? And even now she manages to get under me, where I was expecting more anger, more harsh and crazy lines in her writing, I instead get this…this letter I can't even describe. Man, I don't think she'd ever realize how crazy in the head she makes me. _

But when he looked up he saw his parents just _staring_. His dad had his fist under his nose as if hiding a grin; and his mother just leaned forward, with her cheek resting in her palm sneering at him with a half-lidded gaze.

"What?"

But it was that moment where he realized he just said that last part out loud.

_Dang. _

He scooted his plate away and just collapsed on the blanket, staring at the ceiling pathetically. "Please, don't…don't say it," he begged them.

But thankfully they didn't. "Alright," Miles rose his hands up in defeat.

"Forgetting," Stella finally let go, but Arnold inwardly smiled at that, remembering a petite Asian girl with big glasses who was in love with his best friend.

Two minutes was about enough time for the blush to disperse from Arnold's cheeks, and he finally decided to start up a new conversation. "So, how's Juan?"

"He's fine now," said Stella wiping the corner of her lips with a napkin. "He's been sleeping for the past two hours. I'm wondering when that boy will wake up."

Arnold smiled and sat back up. "I bet he's excited about being discharged, huh?"

"Yup!" his father grinned gulping down the last of his soda. "He's said how hospitals aren't really his thing. Can't wait to get him out there in the world and find out what his thing is!"

"You're the one to be holding up a congratulatory banner with a soda drinking hat and a giant foam finger in front of his bedside, aren't you?" she joked.

"You know me so well, honey."

Though he too smiled, Arnold began to think more about the situation. Everything was still new to Juan. Being the reason they departed from the city and came back to San Lorenzo, Eduardo, the one man he saw as his father, passed away, and now the poor boy had to get used to a whole new family. As cool as it was getting a younger brother, it was also intimidating. Juan didn't talk much, and Arnold never really knew what he thought of him the two years they've been there. If only Gerald were here to give him some advice on brotherhood, but there's only so much you can write in a letter.

But his parents seemed reassured. As soon as they met Juan they came to him and asked to go on this journey. Stella was registered as his personal nurse while he was in the hospital for a mutation of the sleeping sickness. While it wasn't at all as severe as what the Green Eyes had, it did make him weak and tired most often. Because of the mutation, Miles also had been travelling back and forth between San Lorenzo and the states, attending medical conferences and battling U.S. immigration. And Arnold…well, Arnold tried his best to be there whenever he was needed. After school he would always hang out in the hospital, and though he hated its atmosphere at first, the nausea was lifted by the truly amazing people he met. Including Juan. Though he still only talked to Arnold in passing, or in really short conversations, he still wanted to make it a personal duty to get to know him.

"So when he wakes up," Stella continued shaking Arnold away from his recap, "We have some really good news for him."

He raised a brow. "We do?"

The couple of vibrant spirits both shared another glance before grinning ear to ear. "We got his passport!"

…Arnold hung his jaw. "Wait-_what!"_

"Yes!" cheered Miles. "After the _fiftieth_ meeting with the immigration board, they finally decided to let him go to the states for hospitalization there," and though his tone started to die down, he still smiled, "Eduardo's will really helped us. He'd be so happy."

"And look," Stella then reached over for her medical binder and revealed a big stack of papers. "The adoption papers. Now all Juan has to do is sign them, and he's officially a Shortman."

Miles chuckled, "Well, at least the last name would be up to him."

Their smiles quickly got infectious. Arnold started bouncing from his position on the floor. "This is…amazing! Mom! Dad! This is-I-I'll be a-a—"

"_A big brother_," Mom exhaled and reached over to kiss his forehead.

But Miles just continued to snicker at the sight. "You still haven't realized it yet, have you son?"

Arnold turned away from his mom, again being trapped in his parents' orb of confusion. "Realize what?"

Stella giggled as well and crossed her fingers, "I swear, you two are like this," when pointing to the both of her boys. But Arnold was still utterly confused. "Realize _what_?" he repeated.

"Arnold," Miles rested a hand on his son's shoulders, "we're going home."

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><p><strong>AN: AND there you have it! I hope you enjoyed! So here, The Shortmans had to move away to care for a boy that their dear friend Eduardo used to do the same for before he passed. Arnold and Helga never touched on their moment in San Lorenzo, but Helga does often write him letters, these letters being the one symbol of the walls tearing down between them. Being the first time in years that she ever admitted any feelings for him, Arnold's pretty awestruck...lovestruck...who knows? I knows! Buuuut you guys will find out too. I really liked writing for Arnold's parents. :fangirling: they're just so freakin COOL! XD and you'll see a lot of them in this story too. Soooo yeah, again, I really hope you guys liked it. Chapter 2's already finished but I'll wait a little while before posting, it'll give me some time to work on another chapter story soon approaching (no internet for a month really helped my imagination lol). Thanks for reading those who do!**


	2. Some Kind of Anxious

**A/N: Sup! Welcome to chapter 2! Thank you guys for all the great, amazing, and helpful reviews! This story will have different character's perspectives throughout, along with different storylines. So look forward to not only AxH, but different couples, and a few new ones, as well. Helga's up! So enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hey Arnold nor its characters. Nope! That honorable title goes to the suits at Nick and the coolest guy in the galaxy, Craig Bartlett!**

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><p><em><strong>*Three days later*<strong>_

Over the hills and through the city to…man, wait, why was Helga singing that song, again?

Somewhere…something. She really had no clue. How could anyone expect her to with Miriam here dropping this bomb on her? _To think the one vacation I got away from home, the little relief, I learn the duct tape I used to hold his family together ripped clean off._ And no shrieks of pain from the after sting, either. Just, snap, like that. She looked over to the driver's seat to see her dear ole' mother taking a sip of her coffee before putting it back in the cup holder.

"So Helga, how was your visit to Wellington?"

"Horrible. Me and Phoebe got assigned separate rooms and the only thing available was in the preppy stoner hall."

"That's nice, Dear."

Hm. She rolled her eyes at _that_ usual unresponsive reply, but this time Miriam continued.

"No, really Helga. It may not seem appealing at first but a new atmosphere might help—"

"Help with what? I'M fine; _you're_ the one that needed the new atmosphere."

That's when the silence cut. Miriam tapped on the wheel in an attempt to distract me from her awkward expression. _Attempt_ being the imperative.

"Look, Helga. I know it was hard for you finding out I left while you were away, but…I just had to do it. With my AA meetings, I had to learn to cut out the things in my life that made me weak. And…it's—,"

"It's us, right?" she slipped out, failing in trying to commit that to thought.

But she stopped immediately. "NO, Helga. It's never you. Your father and I…turned into something that cannot be fixed."

"Oooh yeah, that makes sense."

"Nooo, it probably doesn't. But in order to find some sense in my life again I had to get away."

…But now? It'd been three years since Miriam found out about the affair, and she stayed then. Three years since Bob ripped up the divorce papers, and she stayed then. Helga didn't even know where she was getting at, but…she guessed she just thought it would always be a constant with her, _staying_. Going home, just her and King Bob…how was she gonna deal?

But she looked at that coffee mug she picked up, thankful that _it was just_ coffee in its contents.

"…So where are you staying, anyway?" she finally asked, ready to do that thing and give people the benefit.

"Oh, my friend offered me a room," her voice perked up as the car shrieked to a stop. "We're right here, actually!"

_Huh…?_

She looked through the dashboard. Criminy…why did this street seem so familiar…? Those weird bunches of animals dashing through the road… where were they from?

She finally talked her eyes into heading in the right direction. That old brick building…that stoop…oh…god…

_THE_ _FREAKIN BOARDING HOUSE! MIRIAM'S STAYING THERE!_

"!"

It was official. She was behind enemy lines. Dangerous territory trademarked by devil horns and taunting violin music. Miriam seemed to float through the halls, while Helga ever so carefully treaded the waters.

_Yeah…blame Lila. _

"Miriaaaam, I got that book you asked for!" That's when a familiar looking blonde border came prancing through.

"Great, Suzie!" and it couldn't be helped but to notice that oddly-pitched-lively-valley-girl tone her mother would sometimes use was more prevalent than ever. "This'll be such a _stimulating_ read," signaling the two to break out in giggles. Ugh, Helga just tugged down her beanie, every next word coming out in a bitter spit. "Mom…please. Tell me that this is an elaborate joke. Please tell me that you're just visiting a friend and you are _not_ moving in to _THIS_ boarding house."

"Oh Helga, honey, so funny!" she then whispered to Blondie. "I think she's still a little uneasy about the whole thing."

_Uh…UH HUH._

"I wouldn't blame her," now she couldn't tell if that compassion was bogus or not, but then Blondie turned to her, "but if it makes you any more comfortable, Helga, your old friend Arnold used to live right up there."

…Apparently she didn't know the rules. Everyone else seemed to catch on that that name…wasn't often spoken when she was around. Newcomers and passer-bys had a lot to learn. But _she_ couldn't even comprehend it let alone explain it to someone who…who was she again?

Noticing that bummy Czechoslovakian man approaching with nothing but a towel, Helga just turned away. "Oh yeah…that's EVER SO comforting…"

_Damn it, Lila! _

"Suuuusieeeee! My bubble bath! You didn't put in Little Oskar the Duck like I asked you to!"

"Oskar, I'm with company right now!"

_Oh brother… _all the noises just started to run together as Helga made for the exit.

"_Well she doesn't have my Little Oskar the Duck, now does she? Suuuusie give me my ducky!"_

"_Oskar you're a grown man, I swear."_

"_Yeah yeah but I still want my duck. And by the way the water's probably cold now, you're gonna have to heat it back up."_

"Helga, wait!" _Low and behold! Miriam chasing after me. _She grabbed her daughter's shoulder to turn her back around, and knelt down like she would always do when opening up her heart. Helga couldn't deny how strange the experience was every time. _Like, I'm not 9 anymore, doi!_ But still…a mother's words were still a mother's words, she supposed.

She figured it was all she could do to just listen to what she had to say.

"Yeah?"

"I really want you to stay for a while. See I-I have his room set up and everything. I even bought one of those cool blow up beds for sleepoveeers! I figured with you being eighteeeen now and all a bunk bed with your mother wouldn't be very hip buuut"—

"Mom," she tried to interrupt. "To tell you the truth, I don't think I'm very comfortable here."

"I know, I know it's not home but—,"

"No really, mom, I'm not—,"

"—but I just feel sooo alive here, Helga, and—,"

"MIRIAM."

"—and I just wanted to share that with my little girl."

"LOOK at me, Miriam! I'm _not_ your little girl anymore."

She averted her eyes then, but not quick enough for Helga to notice how the spark disappeared. Watching her still kneeling like that… Frankly it got pathetic having to look down on her like this. _Man…_

"Alright," and she pulled on her arms to get this puddle of a mother off the floor, "alright, can you take me home now? Tomorrow… I'll come over tomorrow, promise."

She didn't have time to brace herself before the hug. "OHHHH HEELGA HONEEEY! THANK YOUUUU! YOU'LL LOVE IT!"

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><p>"<em>What am I gonna do, Phoebes? I feel like imploding every time I walk down that block, and now I gotta spend the night there? Plus when I came home today and told Big Bob, it was like him sitting there not giving a crap that the world was raining chocolate pudding or something! Absolutely refuses to care! That house, Phoebe it's like…like… Man, just plan my funeral now. I'm gonna die tomorrow, anyway."<em>

Gerald was sitting at the edge of Phoebe's bed when she answered her phone. There he was, enjoying some alone time with his girl, admiring how small her feet were and all that—the way she would always curl up her toes when she got embarrassed was freakin' cute—just chilling, you know, and she just all of a sudden shushed him when the phone rang.

_She shushed me._

He was in the perfect boyfriend mode and was silenced by the best friend emergency. Maaaaan…

But what was he gonna do? So instead he just let her carry on, trying to let his mind wander so he wouldn't pick up on anything he wasn't supposed to. Hm…she had some red nail polish on her dresser, that could help with his boredom. But, she told him more than once how she never paints her toenails. THEN AGAIN, red's kinda sexy. Hmmm…

"Matte, matte, Helga! You're exacerbating again," he heard her say.

"_No SAT vocab right now, Phoebe."_

"Right. Normal vernacular on."

He hurried up and reached for the nail polish when she wasn't looking. Helga was going through another mini-crisis, possibly over Arnold, and Phoebe was always front and center to listen. Yeah, he couldn't lie, that was kinda cute, too.

"I assure you it won't be that bad, Helga. You'll be with your mother the whole time, after all."

"_Besides having to suffer through bonding time with Miriam in the middle of a bunch of borders acting all…loosey goosey—,"_

"_Did that girl just say loosey goosey_?" He couldn't help it. He _had_ to comment on that one. Like…who in the world said that? But Phoebe heard him, _she always heard him_, and shoved her foot in his face to get him to hush. Psshh, now these toes were definitely getting painted. _Payback, baby_.

"_I'll be _there_, Phoebe," _Gerald heard again, but this was a rare moment when Helga's tone started to soften. He always tried to block those moments out. Not to sound insulting but…they were weird._ "I'll be right in the center of his world. I won't be able to escape it. I know I know, I've had enough time to deal with it but it still makes me crazy every time I—,"_

But was it pathetic to say he was getting interested? Well, if she was talking about who he thought she was talking about then it did sort of concern him. He didn't know what Helga knew, or what Phoebe knew he knew, but _he_ knew, and probably a couple others of their friends knew how she felt about the boy, but still…they treated it like an unspoken pact. No one likes going insane, so why risk it by bringing it up? Yeah…Gerald and Helga never discussed it. Messing around with her instead and getting payback for the days of P.S.118 always sufficed for him. But it was as if Phoebe noticed his interest and interrupted her. "Uh Helga…? With company over I don't think this is the best time to open up the ice cream shop."

_Aw, man. _

"_What?" _and her classic anger returned_. "He's STILL there?"_

Well, it was time to make his entrance. "Heeeey Helga guuurl," he dragged out in a girly octave, unfortunately receiving more feet to the face. Well, unfortunate for Phoebe, anyway. It made the nail polish slip and now her right foot looked totally jacked up.

"Sorry Helga," she ignored him again, but he could tell she was watching him in her peripherals, "I'll be over in fifteen okay?"

"_Yeah, alright, thanks. Oh—and tell tall hair boy over there that I have eyes and ears in places he wouldn't imagine, so cut any sly remark he'd usually say when this phone clicks off."_

"Heeheeheeheeheeheehee!" Phoebe just outright laughed at him, but knowing he wasn't about to let that go she leaned over to cover his mouth to prevent any more comments. "Telling!"

And that's when he should've been nervous, for as soon as she clicked off her phone, she gave him this really stern glare.

He should've…but he wasn't. She knew that he loved it too much when she got angry. "Gerald," she sighed, her face immediately softened, "Helga needs me right now, so I have to go, okay?" and she looked down at her feet, "Uuuugh, Gerald! I despise painted toes!"

_Trust me, I know_. He rose up and kissed her cheek while helping her up off the bed. "Yeeeeeaaah, you can get me back for that after I walk you to Helga's."

"You don't have to walk me, Gerald," she passed by but he definitely wasn't letting her go that easily. He latched onto her waist from behind and pulled her to the door, grabbing her jacket while they made their way out. "Yes, yes I do. It's a man's duty, ya know."

She made sure they broke apart as they made their way downstairs. Her dad and the whole "no public display of affection in his home, young man," thing…really bugged him sometimes. But Phoebe smiled as she slid on her sandals and leaned against the front door. "So does this mean I can walk _you_ home? Wouldn't that be a woman's duty?"

_That_ was pretty hilarious. Gerald chuckled as he bent down to slip on his sneakers. "I've lived in a house for eighteen years with one woman and a 14 year old girl who thinks she's one," he shook his head as he tied his laces, "so I'm definitely not gonna answer that."

He dearly noted the eye roll before she called to her mom. "Mother, I'll be back in a little while! I'm going over to Helga's now!"

Then a puff of wild red hair danced through the walkway. "Okay, dearest! Make sure you're back before supper; your father's making onigiiiiiiri! Would you like to stay for dinner, Mr. Johansson?"

Turning on his Mr. Charm, he bowed and put on his debonair accent. "Thank you dearly for the offer my fine lady, but I will be needed at home at that time. Please send my regards to ALL the Heyerdahls and-,"

But Phoebe dragged him out of there before he could finish his dramatic goodbye. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?" she giggled as she made her way down the stoop. He quickly followed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Gotta make sure I keep the family lovin' me."

"Well don't fret there. As long as I do, they do," and she leaned into me.

Yup, she definitely knew how to turn a man to mush. He kissed the top of her head and they fell into step as they made their way across the street. But ugh…walking made Gerald feel so limited. He couldn't help but sigh. "To just think…I could've been drivin' all up and down these streets by now."

"Gerald, you mustn't worry over that now. You did the most honorable and responsible thing you could do for your family. That kind of sacrifice will never go unrewarded."

"Yeah, yeah I know…but still," and all he could do was just shrug.

It was your typical life situation: his dad had a little trouble at his job after an accident; they came across a bump when bills were due, and he chipped in with some savings. No big deal. Phoebe always raved about how selfless that was, that gave him brownie points with his sister, his older brother would give him a pound and say how he definitely owed him one, and his mom couldn't talk about it without bringing out the world's smallest violin and tearing up a little, but it was his old man that honestly made him feel weird about it. He absolutely refused the money for the longest, and when he finally accepted it, it took him awhile afterwards to even look him in the eye. Like…he failed him or something. Things were a bit too touchy feely for him at home, which is why he often spent his days with his girl, with the rest of the guys somewhere, or locked up in his room playing video games.

"You're not going to stop feeling weird about it, are you?" she basically narrated what was going through his head just then.

"Prooooobably not," he sighed while pulling her closer. "Perfect timing, though: we're here." He held onto her waist from behind as they walked up Helga's stoop.

"I can't help but to think the timing was a little too perfect."

"Funny how those things work out," he cheesed. "Now, don't forget to give me all the deets tonight, kay? Especially if your juicy convos involve a particular best friend of mine."

"I'll tell you _nothing_ and you'll be fine with that. I'm still goaded at what you did to my toes."

"Theeeen I guess we're just gonna have to forget that little request, then aren't we?"

"I guess so, Mr. Johansson," and with that she turned to wrap her arms around the back of his neck. "Suki dayo."

He cupped a finger underneath her chin and press his lips to hers, taking a few extra seconds to let them wrestle for dominance. Once they were apart he moved to her cheek to place another chaste kiss there. "You're the one," I chuckle.

Maaan, but now what was he to do?

He jammed his hands into his pockets as he ambled through the city. It was late Friday afternoon and these walks with only the urban ambience to accompany him made him realize:

Things were pretty dull.

Around this time last year he would always have football practice to eat up his hours, but he had to squash that this go-round. Well, he guessed he wasn't that good with managing his time since it eventually started to dominate his schedule and kill his grades. Senior year was full on college preparatory territory, so he decided to take that route instead of overloading his self with sports.

The eldest Johansson brother already held the football trophies of the family; when basketball season comes around is when he'll really shine.

He pulled out his iWood instead from his pocket and prayed that the shuffle option wouldn't disappoint him. But a beautiful moment occurred: that moment where you put your music on shuffle and the very first song to pop comfortably fits your mood.

_Thank you, Big Guy_, he smiled.

A trail of cool followed the broad shouldered boy as he shuffled on the sidewalk, making his way down all the familiar shops. Without noticing, he made a turn on Vine Street, and passed the flower shop, and soon enough the giant red-bricked boarding house—definitely a land mark of his childhood.

But he didn't notice the eyes watching him through the curtains.

And he didn't hear the front door open as he passed by.

And he didn't feel the hand over his mouth until it was too late.

"_**What the-!"**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: XD So that was my failed attempt at creating some suspense. But I don't want these chapters to be too long so I stopped it here. Thank you again sooooo much for the reviews I received for the first chapter. I am absolutely humbled and I hope I can keep you guys' interests! Oh! And "suki dayo" is the casual way to say "I love you" or "I like you" in Japanese (I researched since I was always curious about the difference between "aishiteru" and "daisuki"). Next chapter will have the gang getting ready for something big and also more Helga! Enjooooy your day! And thanks for reading!**_


	3. Something from Our Past

**A/N: Good morning world and all who inhabit it! I'd like to take this time to reaquaint you all with my story! I know it's almost been a year, but when you walk away from something you're able to come back with the freshest ideas! I can see this viewpoint so much better now based on the life experiences I had while I was gone, the real world experiences I needed to write something like this. Now I'm back, super hyped up to write this and hope you guys out there will enjoy! This story will open up a little world for every character, so get ready for an ensemble cast. In this chapter we see what the gang dynamic is like now. I hope you like!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hey Arnold, but I know who does! Yeshh, Nickelodeon and Craig Bartlett people!**

* * *

><p>Park squinted and pressed one eye against the peephole.<p>

"What's the password?"

The tall boy with the askew fade scratched the back of his head on the other side. "Aw…damn it…" he heard him whisper.

"Come on, the heck man, this happens all the time!"

"Alright, alright! Gimme a second…"

Park made a weird combination of a scowl and a sigh sound from his nostrils. The entryway after all was just an old garbage chute door. His butt was getting weird singes of pain from being contorted in one position for so long. "I beg you, Gerald, any day now!"

"Ooh! Ooh! I got it!" and he cleared his throat: "Downtown Fumblerooski!"

"Ding ding!" and Park hurriedly backed away to drop the door and make way for the last member of the Dark Avengers.

…It was…a childhood thing. You'll soon understand.

"Man," Gerald stretched once they both jumped down from the makeshift platform. "Can't remember the last time I squeezed my ass through that thing."

"Two months ago when you didn't know what to get Phoebe for an anniversary present. You and these surprise meetings are _killing_ me."

"But this one is worth it, Park, I'm telling you! Is everyone else here?"

"Yeah, just waiting for you in the lounge."

As far as they knew it, they were the last of the city childhood coalition. All over Hillwood, their imprints were the only ones to survive the harsh realities of the years, of dangerous trips to the jungle, of elementary school graduation, of first loves and first broken hearts, of first fights, of first steps into high school, and of first tears as they watched their dearest friend's plane glide off the tarmac. Many generations of kids would come and go: there were many before them, and many would come after them, some siblings and some strangers. But it was these moments that defined them after all these years. No matter how they separated, no matter the bloodshed from broken noses and scarred knees, they always came together when fate called them. As the kids of Hillwood, it was law.

So Gerald was still the keeper of the tale, Stoop Kid was still Stoop Kid even though he left enough times to get his GED and find a Mrs. Stoop Kid, Chocolate Boy was still Chocolate Boy though Jason Andrews hadn't touched a Mr. Fudgy since the fifth grade, and the head seat of The Dark Avengers round table was still reserved for their football headed leader even though he departed two years ago.

Park here was deemed with the Key of the Underground ever since the summer of fifth grade when he miraculously rebuilt and refurnished the hideout Wolfgang and Co. so mercilessly demolished during Trash Can Day in fourth grade. Many smaller hideouts sprouted up between back alleys and abandoned apartments, and all of them monitored by Park. If you didn't know what Downtown Fumblerooski meant, you were a hermit who deserved to crawl back under the troll bridge from whence you came. He even finished a sister fortress last spring where the Femme Fatale 7 met (Helga, Phoebe, Rhonda, Nadine, Sheena, Lila, and Patty—a name that every man collapsed at in a three hour marathon of tear-wrenching laughs). Unfortunately he had Rhonda Wellington Lloyd as a counterpart and co-worker as she helped designed the fort. The old tree house on Mighty Pete had been redesigned as the ultimate chick haven. But Park just smirked. At least theirs was bigger.

The two stepped into the left corridor where the main conference room lied. In the back a step ladder led to an elevated platform that held the old Mauve Avenger in commemoration of their childhood. Against the wall behind it, the almighty rules of the Dark Avengers and the Dark Fortress read:

_No girls, Pets OK._

Gerald took his seat opposite the end of the wall. "Well men, it seems we meet again."

"Aright, Nick Fury, explain this!" Curly slammed his fists on the table. "I had to leave my improv class early for this."

"Uh...Curly...I'm in that improv class, and I'm pretty sure they kicked you outta there 2 weeks ago," mentioned Eugene.

"Says you and your warped ginger memories!"

"Curly, cool it with the theatrics. This actually is a serious meeting."

"On a scale of one to stupid, how serious?" Harold rested his head in his palm, plainly disinterested in what was going on, and more focused on the corned beef and pastrami sandwich in his other hand.

"As serious as the heart attack you're gonna have when you're 20 if you keep scaring down those clubs my brother. Now I'm dead ass, this is major news."

Sid leaned forward a bit. "Sooo...what is it?"

"Yeah!" Eugene was bubbling in his seat, finding absolutely everything exciting.

"Let us know already!"

"Okay okay!" Gerald crossed his fingers together. "Now...as you may or may not know I've been abducted this afternoon by an old wise man named Arnold's grandpa..."

Just those words alone were enough to silence the boys. The world famous Steely Phil: the man was more influential on their childhood than they realized sometimes, and only in those small times where they'd pass the boarding house would they stop and reflect on it. But those days were few and far between.

Not today, apparently.

"Arnold's grandpa, huh...?" Harold started to pay more attention.

"Would it be inappropriate to say I thought the old man was dead?" whispered Stinky.

"Yes, Stinky," Sid chided dryly, "yes it would."

"Well, what he say?"

It was a distant look Gerald gave the boys, almost as if he wasn't in the hideout anymore, or even on this planet. "...Arnold's back, guys."

* * *

><p>Helga slouched forward to grab the bowl of popcorn and passed it to her best friend, who was just awesome enough to sit with her while she drowned in her confusing emotions. It was a Friday night, stupid reality tv was playing, yet they were delving deep into their psyche's inner workings as if it was a fun side activity.<p>

"So don't you think I'm crazy by now? It's so freakin painful to admit how messed up I feel about this sometimes."

"I thought you said you didn't want to talk about it anymore?"

"I don't...just...just answer the question!"

Phoebe waited until she was finished chomping on her popcorn before grabbing a handful more. "I think sometimes you take this way too...severely, Helga," and she placed three more popped kernels in her mouth.

"Yeah, maybe I am. But try telling my brain that. Something messes up in the wiring and it doesn't work from here to here," and she motioned from her chest to her head.

"Love often does have that affect, though," Phoebe smiled.

"Eh... You know, you would've thought I'd be over it by now. Over him...leaving, you know? Over the idea of us...never working out. You would think I'd move on now that I'm not nine anymore. But every time I write one of these letters, I don't know... I just get sucked back into this intimate little world and for a second I feel like he's feeling it too. Like maybe I'm not crazy, maybe this is meant to happen..."

"But then...the real world sets in?"

"More like crashes in. I slipped up, Phoebes. Damn it I should've never sent that letter! It makes me sound so flippin' pathetic and needy and GAHD I can just imagine him getting shitfaced with Geraldo and everyone else just laughing at it."

"Don't punish yourself for doing what you wanted to do, Helga. No matter what you say to yourself or how you try to talk your way out of something you always end up going for it anyway. I say give yourself a break. Let it be Arnold's turn to go crazy."

"Pfff...Arnoldo Shortamn going crazy over me. Could you even imagine?"

"Yeah, actually I could!" Phoebe started to giggle. "Just imagine the diaries, Helga! All the journals he confesses his dying love to! How tragically romantic!"

Kind of enjoying the joke, Helga threw some popcorn in her face and bounced up off the couch. "Hardy harr harr! Now whatdya say we dead this popcorn and get some shakes or somethin."

"Slausen's I presume?"

"Wheeere else. But it's Friday, so if you see the other girls or Rhonda or whatever, do me a favor and don't engage. I don't really feel like conversing with people today."

"Except for me?" Phoebe quipped as she got up and grabbed her jacket.

Helga grabbed the keys to her dad's Ford and made for the door. "Of course."

* * *

><p>The girls were soon at the entrance of the now chilled-out childhood eatery ready to indulge in the greatest of sugar ridden ice cream treats. But as soon as they made their way to the counter, Helga saw exactly what she knew she was going to see in her peripherals: Rhonda at the far booth with her current BFFs at the moment: Lila, Nadine, and two other nameless popular girls she never really cared about. And yes, Rhonda spotted them as well. But it was interesting how times changed these girls. Maybe it was because high school was such a big place, so less familiar faces we see. Maybe it was because girls had the tendency to hold grudges and move away from their past more than the boys did. Who knows? But, as they saw each other, nothing more was shared between the two other than a simple nod of acknowledgment. And nothing else needed to be. Helga and Phoebe moved to their counter and didn't say a word about it. Too many other pressing details were swimming in their minds right now: like what to order.<p>

* * *

><p>The boys meanwhile were quiet for the longest minute of their lives, which was very very long considering they were...well, <em>them<em>. Everything suddenly held so much weight, and in those sixty seconds everyone tried to figure out where those last two years have gone.

It was as if a vigil was needed. Candles should've been cascaded throughout their fortress. Hymns and heavenly choirs were making the soundtrack to their lives right now. The feeling was almost ethereal. An odd mix of excitement and peace was floating down towards them until...

"WELL IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!" Harold was the first to jump out of his seat.

The boys in them settled in, of course. After all, he didn't _die_. Now was not the time for peaceful reflection. Now was the time for a montage of "hell yeahs!" and "alrights!" Arnold was finally coming back!

It wasn't like their world revolved around him at all...but would it have been weird to say any hint of nostalgic memories always seemed to have a football head looming in the background? Even when the years had the boys separating and moving on to different things they were still _bros_. They were still the Hillwood kings and Arnold just so happened to be a constant in that. When he'd have parties and annoyingly invite everyone even though Patty and Rhonda would secretly want to claw each other's eyes out, and even though Gerald didn't want to be in a relationship at the age of 14 but he would still feel an inexplicable rage whenever Park would make his way over to Phoebe's side, and even when Lila went through her emotive stage and wore all black and dingy jeans and only listened to progressive indie rock with screamo tendencies, throughout all those times of the gang being furthest apart, Arnold was always hell bent on getting everyone together.

That's what always sort of made him the rightful leader of The Dark Avengers.

And now it was their turn. And as the boys reverie died down and Gerald gave the knowing glance to every one of them, they knew exactly what needed to be done.

They needed the girls.

* * *

><p>"So Pheebs, did you watch that episode I told you yet?" Helga started to make conversation once their drinks were ordered.<p>

"Uuugh, admittedly no. I just can't get with the humor Helga, I told you that."

"Blaah, what do you mean can't get with it! It's hilarious! The guy puts plastic wrap on the toilet seat, and it ends up having his roommate go all Niagara Falls on the bathroom floor. Piss everywhere! You can't tell me that's not comic gold."

"Yeah I can. It's potty humor—literally. No way you can expect me to take that seriously."

"But that's the point." -

Both girls froze at the new voice that entered their conversation. Helga turned her head to see none other than Lila at her left leaning over the counter asking for another refill. She turned back to them once the guy took her glass. "It's not supposed to be taken seriously. It's not even funny satire or...clever social commentary or anything. Once you get over how stupid it is, you can start enjoying yourself."

Helga could dare say that she was taken aback. "You watch EpicBrothers videos?"

Lila started twirling a loose curl around her finger. "I've been subscribed to them since the 9th grade, actually..."

"Wooooow, Lila," Phoebe's lids were huge. "I thought you'd side with me on this one."

Helga smirked. "Don't let the preppy ginger fool you Phoebes, we're looking at the world's biggest eclectic weirdo."

"Whatever you say, Helga," Lila slightly smiled herself though and waved to them one last time before grabbing her new-filled drink and heading back over to Rhonda's table.

Helga glanced over one last time before shrugging and turning her head back to the bar. "It's kinda cute when you think about it," she heard Phoebe say. "Remember once upon a time when you hated her?"

"Ha...yeah," Helga scratched her beanie, determined not to go into a childhood flashback. "I still get that urge sometimes though. That chick's good at fooling people, I tell you that."

Helga thought about it a little more when their drinks came. It wasn't a seething rage she had for Lila anymore like she did when she was nine. She sort of upgraded from an annoyance to an acquaintance to a...slightly less annoying acquaintance. It took her a while to see the phases she went through, but as she grew older for some reason fate forced it that they'd have almost every class together. There was still this irritating facade she'd put on for teachers and other kids but whenever she'd slip through the cracks Helga started noticing it. Maybe because she couldn't hide her jealously burning when she actually DID start to date Arnold in the 8th grade. She was past hiding behind dumpsters and hanging on trees, of course. But she still paid slightly too much attention to their relationship and she hated it. But to her surprise the relationship was really short lived, and after that ended and Lila went through a 180 degree personality split, Helga first took it as a sign of attention-seeking pathetic whiny girl syndrome. Sometimes it really was. But other times, there was a really odd-familiar pain she'd catch whenever she accidentally bumped into her in the hall, or would catch her in a classroom by herself, or whenever all the girls actually DID get together for an FF7 meeting and Lila would just seem cast off. She would legitimately seem broken, sad, and tired. And hey, who knew those feels better than Helga G. Pataki, huh?

And thus the mutually-weird-friendship-thingy was born. (That's seriously what they both call it.)

Realizing that she actually did go into a childhood flashback, she shook her head and took a bite of her frozen yogurt. "So what's the plan next? Midnight movie hopping? Double Creature Feature I think is playing at the dollar theater. Then we can see that new Abdacator Hollywood remake. I swear it's gonna suck eggs! I can't wait!"

"Really, Helga? Are you forgetting the day planned you have with your mother tomorrow?"

Why...yes she did. "Aw man...way to remind me..." She really didn't want to think about the stupid promise she just had to make. She dropped her head on the table ready to whine with conviction, but before she could, her phone went off.

She squinted once she saw who was calling. "Stinky? What does he want?" She didn't feel like talking and just let it rang. But one mere minute later the sound blasted again.

"It must be something important, Helga," Phoebe looked over. "Answer it, I'm curious!"

Helga made one last scowl before answering the call. "What is it Stinko?"

"This ain't no Stinky. Why, this is The Crow, messenger to the all mighty Dark Avengers. Should you choose to accept this call, then-"

"Shut the Avengers crap, Stinky I'm not in the mood. What do you doofwads want...?"

…

….

…..

…...

…...

This had to be planned.

Fate had to set up everything that was happening to Helga today on purpose. Some sick twisted thrill for the gods to watch her in the greatest misery of her life. Usher in the final phase to her parents separation, check. Relive the haunting memory of her adolescent crush, check. And now...this.

Without a word Helga hung up her phone and motioned for Phoebe to follow her. Confused, she obliged. The two made what felt like the walk of death over to Rhonda's table. Rhonda probably looked even more confused. She let her conversation about her adorable hipster sweater fade out, and looked up to Helga trying her best to sound polite with her classic Rhonda icy tone. "Heeeey, Helga...uh, what's up?"

Helga tried oh so hard to wipe the grimace off her face, but she knew this was serious, and she knew she had to do this for everyone else, even if she'll hate every minute of it.

"Grab your car. We need to pick up Sheena and Patty."

"Uh...why exactly?"

"Why do you think, Princess? Would I seriously be over here if it wasn't any other reason?"

"Wait...Helga..." Phoebe sounded from behind her, then shot a look towards Nadine who shot one back towards Lila, her other friends being absolutely clueless. It only took them a few more seconds to realize what was going on.

"Wait, does this have something to do with the guys?" Rhonda still felt a bit confused.

"Yup...you bet your ass..."

"Femme Fatale 7 and The Dark Avengers must meet up at the Dark Fortress for the most urgent of meetings," Phoebe could feel herself slipping back into her 10 year old role.

Helga dug in her bag to grab her keys. "And there's only one reason why."

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><p><strong>AN: Weellp, there we go! I liked this chapter because I was able to work on the nostalgic yet new atmosphere I always wanted this story to feel. How, even though they're teenagers now, they still have their childlike imagination and can still ban together even when life takes them in different directions. But this is far from perfect, so off on this journey I continue! I hope you enjoyed!**


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